Shepherd's Winter, Episode 5; A Pleasant Visitor

This is the fourth episode of the novel Shepherd's First Winter. It is available in paperback or Kindle format on Amazon.

A Pleasant Visitor

Shepherd endured two days without sleep. It was reminiscent of New York City; unable to sleep because of sirens, arguing neighbors, and fear of robbery.

“I have trained myself to be afraid,” Shepherd said. “I cannot live without it. It is fear. Fear stokes the imagination.”

Shepherd crawled into his bed and curled under the blankets with his rifle close. He slept for twelve hours and was awakened by Pal standing with his front paws on the bed and a puppy whimper.

“Are you hungry, Pal?” Shepherd said.

Shepherd swung out of bed and pulled on his pants and stretched into his shirt. He walked out into the living room. He grabbed some kindling to toss into the fireplace, but the fire was burning.

“I started the fire for you.” It was a female voice.

Shepherd jerked.

On the bench next to the window was a young woman.

“I fed, Pal,” she said. “My native name is Illuak, but my legal name is Nancy, Everyone calls me Nan.”

Shepherd stared at her puzzled. She was pleasantly and calmly beautiful with a strong sharp face, a raw untainted beauty born from naturalness. She was healthy and strong.

“I am Daniel’s daughter,” Nan smiled and stood.

Shepherd buttoned his shirt and still seemed confused.

“Father wanted me to check on you,” Nan said.

“It’s dangerous out there,” Shepherd said.

“This is my home,” Nan said. “I’m used to it.”

“How did you get here?” Shepherd said.

“Snowmachine,” Nan said.

“Let me get you some coffee,” Shepherd said.

“It’s all ready for you,” Nan said.

Shepherd rubbed his eyes and stumbled to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Nan,” Shepherd said. “I had a couple of sleepless nights, and I’ve been sleeping for a long time.” He removed two tin cups from the cupboard. He leaned into the living room and rubbed his eyes again. “Are you real?”

“I think I am,” Nan said. “Perhaps I should pour the coffee.”

“No, no,” Shepherd said. “I’ll get it, just got to get the cobwebs out.”

“My father wanted to check on you,” Nan said. “He had to drive into Ruby and report one of our dogs was killed.”

“How?” Shepherd said.

“It broke loose and Father found it,” Nan said. “It was mauled to death.”

“Mauled?” Shepherd said. “Is that common?

“No,” Nan said. “That’s why Father reported it. The animal was only killed. It was not eaten.”

“What does Daniel think?” Shepherd said.

“Father was quiet,” Nan said. “He does not believe in old tales told by old men who drink too much and old women who only want to talk.”

“What are the old tales?” Shepherd said. He poured two coffees and sat the cups on the table.

Shepherd and Nan sat at the table.

“Are you sure you want to hear about these things?” Nan said.

“Yes,” Shepherd said. “I’m interested.”

“There are legends and myths,” Nan said.

Shepherd interrupted, “Like Amarok.”

“Yes,” Nan said, looking quite serious. “You have heard of it?”

“Before coming here I read as much as I could about your people and their culture,” Shepherd said.

“Father says that the stories of Amarok are only meant to keep foolish men from hunting alone,” Nan said. “It is not animals that must be feared; it is the cold, and it is thin ice, or becoming lost. Such legends keep our people safe.”

“If these are only legends and myths how do dogs get mauled without being eaten and why does your Father go a long distance to report it?” Shepherd said. “And why does he send you to warn me?”

“You know why if you had read about to our people,” Nan said.

“Amarok will not go near virgins,” Shepherd said.

Nan smiled, “I think that was made up by protective fathers.”

“Amarok will seek vengeance on a man who takes a woman not promised,” Shepherd said.

They sipped coffee for a half hour. Shepherd told Nan about some of his background and she told him a little about herself.

She glanced out the window. “It will be dark before long. I must hurry home.” She stood, slipped on her parka, and flipped the hood over her head.

“I’m not letting you go alone,” Shepherd said.

“I will be safe,” Nan said.

“I don’t believe in myths,” Shepherd said. “Only man kills something and does nothing with it. I’ll follow you in my snow machine until you are safely home.”

Shepherd's First Winter; Episode 4; Strange Night

This is the fourth episode of the novel Shepherd's First Winter. It is available in paperback or Kindle      format on Amazon.

Strange Night

For three nights Pal whimpered and Shepherd slept next to him by the fire.

Before long the cold that crept over the mountains and swept along the river from the north showed its bitter and fearsome teeth. It was as if there was anger about it. As if the wilderness was taking displeasure in Shepherd’s presence.

They sat alone by the fire. Pal watching the flames with curiosity and Shepherd reading White Fang by the light of a small lamp. The wind howled through the pines like forlorn souls from the ancient hunting grounds of the north who died in search of their quarry.

Pal became frightened and got to his feet and sat before Shepherd. He pawed at Shepherd’s feet. Shepherd looked at Pal’s worried eyes. Shepherd moved aside the book and Pal sprung into his lap. Shepherd began reading aloud. Pal soon went to sleep.

The night was eerie in every respect. The cabin creaked and snapped as if prodded by the unseen. There were strange sounds, whether real or imaginary; Shepherd did not know.

Pal was still a pup; his powers of perception not fully developed. Shepherd felt Pal tremble. He wondered if his instincts were telling him to be in fear. Could there be a grizzly that had not yet hibernated? Are there wolves in the area?

Shepherd cradled Pal in one arm and retrieved the rifle from next to the door. He made certain it was loaded and ready for use.

Thoughts of the legendary beasts that roamed the north woods crept into his mind.

“It is no wonder the natives conceived of Amarok, a wolf-like creature who fed off hunters foolish enough to hunt on their own. Perhaps he will find a man foolish enough to live on his own,” Shepherd thought, smiled, and said just above a whisper, “But I am not alone. I have Pal.”

One of Pal’s ears lifted.

“What is it you hear?” Shepherd said.

Pal growled low and quiet.

“Stay here, Pal,” Shepherd said, sitting him in front of the fire. “Stay.”

Shepherd flipped off the small lamp and went to the window. He peered out trying to see as much as possible. There was nothing but loneliness and cold. Snow sifted across the plain to the front of the cabin. Suddenly something in the distance trudged through the snow coming straight for the cabin.

“Could it be Daniel,” Shepherd thought, “perhaps hunting and can not make it to his home?”

Pal moved anxiously as if he wanted to be with Shepherd.

“Come on, boy,” Shepherd said and Pal dashed to his side immediately. Shepherd reached down and petted Pa. “Nobody said this was going to be without fear.” He looked out the window to where he last spotted the mysterious figure moving toward the cabin. It was gone.

Shepherd squinted and scanned the plain. He knelt down next to Pal and rested his hand on his neck. Pal was no longer trembling.

“What was it, Pal?” Shepherd said.

Pal slowly walked over to the fireplace and laid on his crumpled blanket.

Shepherd made coffee and sipped it through the night. Pal slept contentedly.

Shepherd's First Winter; Episode 3, Warning Loneliness

This is the third episode of the novel Shepherd's First Winter. It is available in paperback or Kindle format on Amazon.

Pal

The snow came. It was in the night when it fell.

Shepherd scraped frost from a window in the dining room. White. He brewed coffee on the stove and slipped his clothing on. He jumped from the porch and into the snow. He was a child. He laid in the snow and looked upward and watched the snow fall on him. “The first snow, and I’m already mad,” he thought chuckling.

Two mornings later Shepherd sat in his chair in the living room. He was reading Call of the Wild. He heard dogs barking in the distance. He slung on his coat and stepped out on the front porch. He listened as the barking became louder. Over a ridge of snow in the direction of the stream, a dogsled team plodded toward the cabin.

The dogs and sled came to stop only feet from the porch. A man in thick clothing and a fury hooded parka walked from the rear of the sled to the steps of the porch. He slipped back the hood. It was Daniel smiling broadly.

“How are you doing, Shepherd? Daniel said.

“I am doing well,” Shepherd said, “and you and your family?”

“We are native,” Daniel said. “We do well when things are bad.”

“Come in,” Shepherd said.“Let me warm you. I have coffee and pie. Do you like cherry pie?”

“It has been a long time,” Daniel said. “You go ahead. I’ll be with you in a moment. I will tend to my dogs.”

Shepherd went inside. He warmed some stew and placed two bowls on the table along with two slices of cherry pie and a steaming cup of coffee.

Shepherd heard Daniel stomp the snow from his boots. Daniel entered the cabin. Tucked in his arms held to his chest was a pup.

“My family and I were talking about you and how you might become lonely,” Daniel said. “A dog is a good gift. A good dog is the best gift.”

Daniel handed the pup to shepherd.

“Look!” Daniel said. “He takes to you right away.”

Shepherd petted and smiled at the pup. “What kind of dog?”

“He is a Husky,” Daniel said.

“Does he have a name?” Shepherd said.

“No,” Daniel said, “he is yours, and it is up to you to name him.”

“Have you ever read Call of the Wild?” Shepherd said.

“You will name him, Buck?” Daniel said. “That name 's been taken.”

“You’re right,” Shepherd said.“I will call him Pal.”

“That’s a good name,” Daniel said. “He will be your pal.”

“How old is he?” Shepherd said.

“Two months,” Daniel said.

“I will have all winter to train him,” Shepherd said.“When spring comes he will be reading.”

Shepherd and Daniel sat down to a good meal of the stew and cherry pie.

Shepherd put the dishes in the sink and poured two glasses of whiskey.

“A man who lives alone must watch how much he drinks,” Daniel said. “Your life depends on how sober you are.”

“Don’t worry, Daniel,” Shepherd said, “only when guests arrive and the celebration of your gift.”

They sipped for an hour talking about the cold and surviving the wilderness.

“I must go now,” Daniel said. “Not much daylight remains.”

Shepherd opened the oven and pulled out another cherry pie. He wrapped it in cloth. “My gift to you and your family.”

“My wife and children have never had cherry pie,” Daniel said. “They will surely enjoy it.”

Daniel slung on his parka. He stepped over to the fireplace where Pal was asleep. He leaned down and said, “Take care of Shepherd.”

Shepherd walked with Daniel to the porch. Daniel packed the pie on the sled and rocked the sled free. The dogs sprung to their feet.

“Yaaw! Yaaw!” Daniel called out to his team of dogs. Daniel circled the dogs and sled around, and they headed down a gentle slope of snow toward the stream that led to the river.

As he watched Daniel skim over the snow, he thought about loneliness, real loneliness for the first time in his life. He realized that of all the things he planned for, that was the one thing he gave no attention.

Daniel was a man of the wilderness. He heard stories of loneliness and how it can shred a man.

Shepherd returned to the cabin. He pulled his chair closer to the fire. He held Pal in his lap and read to him from Call of the Wild.

Shepherd's First Winter; Episode 2, Warning Loneliness

This is the second episode of the novel Shepherd's First Winter. It is available in paperback or Kindle format on Amazon.

Warning Loneliness 

Shepherd set the table and heated the sauerkraut with bits of squirrel sausage and hot dogs on a propane-heated stove. They rolled the kraut and hot dogs in homemade bread and washed it down with coffee.

“This is good,” Daniel said.

“I’ll start a hot dog stand on the road to Ruby,” Shepherd said.

“I’ll be your first customer,” Daniel said.

Shepherd smiled. “You’ll be one of my only.” He sipped his coffee.

“Do you have a snow machine?” Daniel said.

“Yes,” Shepherd said. “Do you?”

“I have one for everybody in the family,” Daniel said.

“When will the snow come?” Shepherd said.

“It is already deep in the mountains,” Daniel paused and thought. “This weekend, big snow.”

“This will be my first big snow up here,” Shepherd said. “Last spring there was some snow but it was a spring snow.”

“I worry about you, Shepherd,” Daniel said.

“I will be fine,” Shepherd said.

“Many men have come here and said that,” Daniel said.

“I am prepared for the winter,” Shepherd said. “I have a tight cabin, plenty of wood, and enough food for three winters.”

“That is good,” Daniel said. “You prepared well; I can see that, but did you prepare for loneliness?”

“That’s why I came here,” Shepherd said, “to get away from people.”

“Certain people?” Daniel said. “You left friends behind?”

“Sure,” Shepherd said. “I have friends.”

“Too bad,” Daniel said, “you will miss them.”

Shepherd’s eyes fell to his empty plate. His thoughts became forlorn and dark.

“I will help you unload your provisions, Shepherd,” Daniel said. “I must make it home before nightfall.”

After Shepherd’s winter provisions were moved from the jeep and stacked in the dining room and kitchen Daniel left. Shepherd started stacking canned food items in the cabinets and stopped. He walked to the front porch and watched Daniel walk to the stream in the distance. Daniel walked along the stream heading toward the river.

Shepherd looked at the mountains to the west; they were caked in snow and it spread to the foothills. Shepherd thought deeply for a moment. “I have prepared for everything except my mind.”

Shepherd looked toward the stream. Daniel stood on a rock. He waved. He knew Shepherd would be watching. Shepherd waved big and friendly, but his heart was sad and already longing.

Shepherd watched Daniel until the stream disappeared into a gully.